


Eight More Hours

by frecklesarechocolate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, post 8.23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is in the laundromat, washing his clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight More Hours

Cas figures out how to break into a vending machine. He knows it’s wrong to steal, but he’s so hungry, and he just spent seventy-five cents on the washing machine and he has a buck twenty five saved for the dryer. He’d like to know why the dryer is more expensive than the washing machine, but he’s been staring at the bag of pretzels in the vending machine for fifteen minutes now, and, as his rumbling stomach reminds him, he is hungry.

He steals the pretzels. And the Baby Ruth bar, because it’s got peanuts in it. Okay, and he tried it once and really liked it.

He goes into the back of the laundromat to eat the food, his back facing the windows onto the street. He doesn’t want anyone to see him scarf down the food, which he does. He barely tastes the food, and feels vaguely queasy after, but after five minutes of deep breathing, the food stays down, a cold lump in his stomach. He sits on the bench in his - Jimmy’s - boxers, and thinks about what his choices are.

He can continue on as he has been, scrounging for change, wandering in a generally eastern direction (he’s not sure why east is the way he should go, but that’s where he’s headed), or he can … well, he’s not sure what the ‘or’ in this case is. 

But he’s surrounded by sloshing washing machines and whirring dryers, and he’s lonely. He’s been cut off from his family - most of whom would probably kill him on sight anyway - and he can’t hear the voices of the host any more. It’s too quiet, even with the constant drone of the machines in the laundromat. 

He opens up his hand and looks at the five grimy quarters sitting there and sighs. There’s a pay phone in the back of the laundromat, and it looks like it’s still functioning. He’s tired, he’s hungry (still) and he’s lonely. He’s half naked, and he just can’t do this anymore.

He trudges to the phone and picks up the receiver. He slides the quarter into the slot and dials a phone number he wasn’t even sure he had memorized, and waits.

After two rings, the deep voice he’s been longing to hear picks up and says, “Hello?”

Cas is so overwhelmed with relief at hearing the sound of his friend’s voice that all he can do is sigh shakily. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, a new sensation that he’s not entirely sure he likes.

There’s silence on the other end, and then a sharp inhale. “Cas? Is that you?”

"Yes," Cas says, his voice craggy with disuse. "Hello, Dean."

"Where are you? Are you all right? I’m coming to get you. Where are you?" Dean says, rapid fire. Cas isn’t sure exactly where he is, but he can see the phone number of the pay phone, and he gives Dean that information. He can hear the faint clicking of keys over the line, and then Dean says, "All right. It will take me about 8 hours to get to you. Can you hold on for 8 hours?"

Cas says he can, although he’s not sure about it, not really. His washing machine has finished, and he knows he should get his clothes out dump them into a dryer soon. Free machines are at a premium. But he’s kind of frozen where he is, the receiver pressed tightly to his ear.

"Cas?" Dean says, and from the way he says it, Cas thinks Dean might have had to repeat himself a couple of times.

"Yes, I’m still here," Cas says.

"Hold on Cas, I’m coming okay? I’ll be there as fast as I can." Dean hesitates, and then he says in a rush, "I’m glad you called. I miss you."

"Thank you, Dean. Thank you." But before he finishes saying his thanks, the call disconnects, and Cas is left listening to a dial tone. The drone takes a few seconds to register, and then he hangs up the receiver. 

Eight hours. He can hold on for eight more hours.


End file.
